Pass the Pepto
by Zoser
Summary: One of those nights


**Pass the Pepto**

It was a routine mission and SG-1 was back without any damage to life and limb. They were showered, debriefed and thoroughly checked out by Doctor Fraiser. And more than anything they were ready to go home.

There was a Star Wars marathon on TV and Teal'c lobbied for a team night at O'Neill's. The colonel acquessed provided there would be pizza and beer on the menu. Carter said she'd bring the salad and their plans were set.

So when SG-4 returned with a stomach virus all staff who had no contact with said team were advised to leave before the base was put under quarantine. SG-1, although quite sympathetic to their ailing comrades, left in a hurry - been there, done that, and never again if they could help it.

The evening was enjoyable. Teal'c was engrossed. Daniel and Sam picked apart inconsistencies. Jack nodded off in Hoth hugging the couch blanket and woke with a chill encased in carbonite.

Just about the time the Ewoks were carrying off Han Solo and company Daniel felt a little discomfort but thought it was the greasy pizza or the doughy crust. He thought he should have eaten more salad and skipped the beer.

Before the Emperor Palpatine could entice Luke to the darkside Daniel was the first to go down. Jack couldn't believe how anyone could get so sick on just two beers but Daniel was a notorious light weight.

Sam was next.

Then Jack felt the rumblings in his gut too. Was it something he ate? They always ordered from the same pizza joint and never were ill before. The well-aged burrito he snacked on before the team came over tasted fine.

Jack was headed for the hall bathroom when he was intercepted by Teal'c who proclaimed he was feeling most unusual. Daniel was moaning in the spare room and Carter had curled up on O'Neill's bedroom floor inches from the ensuite bathroom.

O'Neill found a pail on the garage and put it beside Daniel's bed. Daniel and Teal'c could fight over the hall bath. He was trying to be quiet but when the urge hit him full force he flung himself into his bedroom, nearly tripping over Carter then slammed the bathroom door in his rush.

Later, much later, he came out clad in a towel, he went to his dresser. He pulled out and pulled on a t shirt and slipped into a pair of skivvies as the towel hit the floor.

Carter, it seemed, crawled into his bed clutching her stomach in a tight fetal position. She observed all through half opened eyes. Too bad it was so dark she could barely see anything. Too bad there wasn't a full moon tonight. With that thought she started to giggle.

O'Neill turned and having forgotten all about her and exclaimed "What?"

"I think the dehydration is affecting my mind."

"Feeling any better?"

"Like I was run over by a bus."

"Do you need…"

" And don't, please don't even mention food … sir...oh"

"I'll just crash on the floor." O'Neill said not wanting to be too far from the bathroom.

"No, Sir it's your….oh god." Sam bolted off to the bathroom.

They could share he supposed. It was not much different than camping while on mission. This was so not a good idea but he wanted to lie down even if it was on the driveway. He was about to lie down when he had a thought. He grabbed his cell phone and no, he was not calling the base lest they fall under the grasp of the Napoleonic Power Monger who would shove needles in their arms and gross medicine down their throats. He called his regular pizza place and asked to speak to his regular delivery boy.

"I'll give you fifty buck if on your next run you bring me 2 bottles of pepto."

"Yes sir, I'm on my way."

Jack stayed vertical until the delivery was made. He left one bottle in the hall bath and took a swig from the other before placing the other on the bedside table. He would have placed it in the bathroom but Carter was still in there. He would have knocked and asked how she was but all he wanted to do was lie down.

Jack collapsed on the bed drawing up a blanket from the foot of the bed. All his strength and warmth had dissipated and he found himself shivering. He hated being cold. Antarctica, Hoth, it was all the same.

Carter emerged from the ensuite and nestled under the covers. Not five minutes later O'Neill rocketed from the bed for a second act. The motion from the ensuing wake left Carter feeling queasy. She clamped her teeth together put her fingers in her ears to block out the sound emitted from the bathroom and thought of kittens.

Later O'Neill emerged from the ensuite stripped off another drenched t shirt, pulled on a clean one and crawled into bed. He folded his large frame into a ball chilled to the bone.

Sam took the blanket he had flung on her in his haste and she tucked it around him.

"I was hot." She said offhandedly, as a disclaimed for her kindness.

An icy finger caressed her cheek "Yes you are." was all he said.

Breakfast for the somber group was black coffee and dry toast, mostly untouched barely even glance at. The base was open for business and the intrepid team went back to work.


End file.
